Fate's Gamble: Kaleidoscopic Residue
by The JP
Summary: Not all of Zelretch's prana was used up bringing Harry Potter to the Shapeless Isle. Some of it lingered among the ether, making changes where none should have occurred. And when Angra Mainyu finds influence, the Fifth Heaven's Feel, and the future of two worlds, is forever changed. Spinoff of Lupine Horror's "Fate's Gamble".
1. Chapter One: Psycho

**A/N: First off, here's my disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling. I don't own TYPE-MOON; that belongs jointly to many people, most notably Kinoko Nasu. I also don't own any other series mentioned, played with, toyed with, referenced, or otherwise 'defiled' herein. **

**Okay, now that that's out of the way, I can get down to business! This here is a wonderful little spinoff of Lupine Horror's intriguing little fanfic, 'Fate's Gamble". Our point of divergence is the summonings for the Holy Grail War itself, with the particular influence behind it being the small bits of Zelretch's prana left over from what's responsible for Fate's Gamble in the first place. The Greater Grail already taps into a minor form of the Kaleidoscope to access the Throne of Heroes, so why not let it go just a **_**teeny**_** bit further, hm? Especially since it's already there… and good old Harry's presence is throwing a massive wrinkle into the whole shebang. Harry's two Servants, and one more Servant, will differ from both F/sn canon, and from what Lupine Horror has planned. I know you love Casko, I love my Tamamo too, but… she's not appearing.**

**I've rambled enough. We're starting off with that first differing summon. On with the show!**

* * *

Snow coated the ground, the branches on the trees, the rocks on the path. It floated down upon the creek before melting into the waters, its infinitesimally small uniqueness destroyed forever as the water assimilated it. Peaceful, some may call this scene. Tranquil, others could say. Serene.

But for the lone sapient habitant, the Black Forest of Germany was anything but peaceful. For as the small figure darted through the frost-covered undergrowth, the baying of the hounds could be heard, as Hell followed after them. An entire pack of wolves slammed into an invisible wall, which crumbled in the next instant, allowing the hunt to continue. The alpha wolf could not help its primal confusion; walls do not disappear without trouble, and even the clear walls turned cloudy and fragmented when it slammed its shoulder into them with sufficient force. This wall was, and then it _wasn't_.

The canine's hackles rose, a snarl building deep in its throat. It and its pack had been starved, locked up and deprived of food for a full three moons, three moons of cloying hunger, and now all they had was this _spriteling_ for a hunt, and even that was difficult?

A gesture to the side was enough for the rest of its pack, save two or three, to split off and go one way. The three of them, alpha, its mate, and beta, circled around. They would ensnare their prey, one way or another. They had been denied the thrill of the hunt for far, _far_ too long…

* * *

Slight. Elfin. Fey. These three words easily described the tiny child sitting in the clearing, leaning against a slab of stone easily three times larger than she was tall at its shortest point. Surrounding her on all sides lay the wolf pack, finally approaching, silently padding out of the forest while she had been resting herself. There was no longer any escape from their wild hunt; it seemed as though the game was truly up.

A smile, one from ear to ear, filled with malice and rage, was all that the hunted offered up her hunters. Something deep inside of the beasts, even their fearless alpha, quavered at the sight. Prey did not act quite so _confident_, not when it was cornered. Not when there was no escape, should food be so fearless!

A crack rang through the clearing.

One by one, more such shattering and breaking cacophonies erupted, startling the wolves in turn, as the frozen ground ruptured, streams of ephemeral, phantasmal light pouring through. Arcane designs traced along the ground, destroying grass and ice and stone as it went, carving a set of six concentric circles, the wolves each occupying a notch on the largest edge, and the prey-girl and her slab inhabiting the innermost.

The alpha snarled and moved to lunge.

Or at least… it tried.

Panic overtook the wolves' bestial instincts as they realized that their movement was indeed hampered by whatever notches they stood in, within this circle of light and power. There was no escape, this was still true… but the tables had been soundly turned. The hunters had, indeed, become the hunted.

"Silver and iron to the origin," a light, small voice spoke, teeth chattering in the cold. "Gemstone and the archduke of contracts to the center. Our ancestor is the great master Schweinorg."

As she spoke, the wolves understood, deep in their marrow, that this was the end. One by one, their muscles, tissues, ligaments were being transformed, deconstructed into a base component and offered up.

"I announce..."

Where once there had been snarling beasts, apex predators on the prowl, instead lay whimpering masses, bodies ravaged and consumed by ethereal might, sacrificing their very essences, their whole _souls_ unto this ritual, tapping into a realm beyond the time and space its caster inhabited.

"But let thine eyes be clouded by madness," the tiny girl spoke, the smallest bit of satisfaction creeping into her expression and tone, "be bound in the cage of madness, and let thy chain be held in my hand," the light changed. Where before it had been silver-white, it had deepened to a deep, royal purple, pulsating with strips of black-filled blood-red lightning. The wolves were half of the catalyst; maddened by hunger, they would allow for an even stronger insanity than should possibly be allowed, for mortal man _or_ ascended being.

"If thou abidest by the contract, thou clad in the holy trinity, come _forth!"_

And the light consumed the clearing, the last, mournful howl of the wolves carried away on the wind.

* * *

The Greater Grail, or more specifically the embodiment of All Evils of the World nestled deep within its core, shifted. Summons were not yet supposed to happen, not for the Fifth Heaven's Feel, not for another several months. And yet, it could feel its vessel's might being tapped only so slightly, just enough to pry open the gateway between dimensions enough to allow a spirit through. Nothing more and nothing less.

Angra Mainyu, sometimes called Ahriman, but a being still no less evil regardless of nomenclature, turned its foul attention onto the summoning. The massive slab of stone was an obvious catalyst: claimed from the tomb of the great Heracles, one corner of the triangle of mighty heroes to undergo apotheosis, along with Karna and Scathach. And yet, despite this incredible might, something seemed… off. Tame, even. With such a mighty being summoned as a Berserker, there would be no chance for the true, fearsome might of Greece's Greatest Hero to show through.

No, this could not do. There had to be something el—wait, what was this? Deep within the stone slab, a single molecule that should not have been there… it reeked of the Kaleidoscope, of a happy accident that had bettered a life, and yet, it was residual. A single atom of a compound that should not exist in this universe, a compound of Aluminum, Platinum, and Tungsten. A compound of a natural purple color, quite possibly even rarer than the blue that so few items held.

Yes, it could work with this. There would be something _unique_ about this Servant Berserker… yes, there certainly would.

Deep within Fuyuki City, underneath the park commemorating the fire of nearly ten years prior, something foul stirred in amusement. Even the worms left the premises; it was simply too _foul_ to stay.

* * *

From the eyes of his familiar, an elderly man in elegant, formal robes felt a frown threatening to tear his arrogance asunder. It had all been perfect, prepared just excellently! The aria had been modified, the catalyst had been so excellently selected. The only object with a greater link to the Son of Greece would have been one of the arrows with which he'd slain the Hydra, and those had been lost since their first attempt at forcing open a doorway to **[ ]**, to Akasha, to the void from which all creation sprung. This was the single greatest object of importance, so _why had it not worked!?_

Heracles was nowhere to be seen in the Black Forest of the Einzberns. Instead, a badly proportioned, one-eyed, over-muscled, shaven-head, shirtless _monkey_, with modern breathing apparatus—_modern!_—stood in their chosen champion's place. Why could that possibly have failed—

No, he reminded himself. It was not yet a failure, not until all cards had been exhausted. With a mere mental prod, he ordered further familiars in, ones synthesized through forbidden alchemical experimentation. This odd Berserker must needs be tested.

Jubstacheit von Einzbern sat lain back in his chair once more, eyes closed as he observed through his lone scouting familiar. Yes, they still had cards to play here.

* * *

"Servant Berserker, by your summons I have come. I ask of you, art thou my Master?"

Ilyasviel von Einzbern looked up at the Servant before her, startled both by his appearance and by the gentleness of his voice. This… was not Heracles. And yet, a brief glimpse at her Servant's parameters and Noble Phantasms was more than enough to force a Cheshire smile across the Justicia-class homunculus' face.

Her Servant wore no shirt, his torso being so muscular that any that wasn't tailored would simply have ripped anyways. Scars mottled his skin, but there wasn't even the slightest trace of body fat present on his frame. On his right arm, he had dried, previously bloodied bandages, while the right had an odd semi-gauntlet upon it, cylindrical protrusions on the top end and a tube coming from the back. The tube linked up to an injector on the back of his neck, though what circulated through it was a mystery, protected by the opacity. The mask itself had a single eyehole on the left side, and an air filter coming from the mouth area, with no obvious area for the nose to breathe.

But most importantly was the insignia inscribed upon the mask: an archway inscribed in a slightly oval attempt at a circle, painted upon its surface in the blood of myriad foes, each stronger than the last. How Ilyasviel could know and comprehend this fact was simply by virtue of the connection between Master and Servant.

Her eyes traveled down to the Command Seals inscribed upon her left hand, eyeing the patterning of a flickering fire. With but a thought, the Seals merged with the massive array previously carved down to the very marrow of her soul, disappearing from plain sight, only visible when prana circulated through her form.

"Yes, I am your Master," she replied, a curtsey with the shredded white nightgown given to her Servant. Her previous chill had vanished; the sheer od forced through her body heated her to a point where most humans would die, and the snowflakes that fell upon her form steamed away on contact.

"Now, Berserker," Ilyasviel von Einzbern turned away from her Servant, hearing the padding footsteps of her grandfather's chimerae approaching their location. Each one barely visible through the spines of the forest, or the blackness of the night, and yet she could clearly sense each one's location.

"_Kill._"

Muscles rippled. Veins pulsed and throbbed along his arms, back, and neck. His lone visible eye twitched, as the song of battle began to flow once more through the warrior's veins. With no weapon in sight, save a small fragment of the massive stone obelisk that had come loose during the Summoning wielded as a knife, the Servant lowered his stance, shoulders raised in an imitation of a wolf's hackles.

"**I stared into the heart of darkness…"** The Servant shifted, acquiring better footing on the cold, frozen dirt—and then he _moved_.

"_**AND I ATE IT ALL!"**_

* * *

A single shard of stone, fashioned into the crudest of knives, was all that the Servant had. And yet, to even possess such was more than enough for the Mad Servant. In his hands, veins of purple traveled along the fragment, enhancing it, strengthening the stone shard until it became something transcendent, power and legend crystallized into physical form, imbued with might via recognition by Gaia.

In Berserker's hands, the simple stone had become a Noble Phantasm.

The first blow rained down upon the skull of a disgusting hybrid of scorpion and bear, a creature of chitin hide and razor claws, venom dripping from every tip. Gore splattered from the blow, flying every which direction—yet it didn't, staying suspended in midair as a bubbling sphere of energy grew from within the chimera's corpse, expanding outward in a roiling mass of orange and yellow. Two seconds later, the mass fell in upon itself, and _detonated_, the blood and bone of Berserker's prey transformed into a weapon that claimed the life of another chimera, and with it, cascaded into another detonation. Two chimeras had been slain with a single attack, another three wounded, and unbidden by Jubstacheit, the remaining fifteen unharmed quailed in primal fear. This creature… this was not a raging Berserker, stripped of lucidity and reason, skill and knowledge, in exchange for great power. No, this was something beyond their understanding.

This Berserker sat constantly within pure madness, and yet never fell to it. Insanity powered its every move, granting it a fervor and might that few could match unaided, but deep within its insanity rested the smallest kernel of intellect, of conscious will.

And it was this kernel that allowed the Berserker class's Mad Enhancement to reach its utmost peak, and yet, never reduce its victim to a slobbering, drooling wreck. This was no simple Berserker. This creature… was a _psycho_.

"**GWAHAHAHA, OOWAHAHA, GRAYEHAHA!"**

The mad Servant dashed this way and that, leaping several times his own height into the air and descending upon the monstrosities facing it, jagged shard of stone slashing into eyes, rending plates and hides, tearing flesh and muscle from blood and bone. So absorbed in his slaughter did he not realize a creature had made its way to his backside, an amalgam of orangutan and praying mantis, the combination creating monstrous, scything claws that could destroy anything save the strongest of Phantasmal protections.

But the organic blades never fell down upon the Berserker's flesh. With a quick spin and a deep breath, he leaned down—and fire fell from his mouth upon the creature's form.

The flame itself seemed to leap back and onto the Berserker, setting his bare flesh aflame. And yet, he did not burn, nor did he grow weaker. Somehow, immersed in the flame, this monstrous creature simply grew faster, better, _stronger_ than before. Wreathed in the fires of purest agony, he fell upon the remaining chimerae, his blows igniting all it touched, spreading hellfire and chaos every which way.

Seconds later, and it was all over. One last chimera found itself grasped in Berserker's hands, held away from his body, far up above the ground. The hybrid of serpent and stag hissed and spit, struggled every which way, but could not get free. Its fangs could not reach the Servant's skin, and its claws could no less damage the madman than a small child could a brick wall. Berserker leaned in, that single, infinitesimally small spark of lucidity recognizing the man holding this creature's reins, even having never seen him. And in that instant, Jubstacheit von Einzbern felt a bone-deep _fear_.

"**HOW CAN I SNAP YOUR NECK IF YOU DON'T HAVE ONE!?"**

A single swift, bloody motion, and it was over, the creature's limbs ripped from its body.

It bled out in mere seconds.

* * *

Thousands of miles and half a world away, a girl awoke, shivering in a cold sweat. This had been happening more often of late, awakening in the middle of the night from some terrible dream, its imagery threatening to send the contents of her stomach up the wrong way. She pressed a hand to her fast-beating heart, just above her breast, and took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn't last.

Suddenly, as though an invisible line had been tripped, her body seized up, before it began to move of its own accord. Bare feet propelled a body clad in naught but a nightgown and lacy unmentionable through the dank mansion, the stench of rot and decay that lingered as an ever so slight, nigh-unnoticeable undertone growing to consume the senses as she walked onwards, a prisoner in her own form. As she passed a candle, its light cast her shadow in front of her.

And from within the shadow, five eyes, red as the crimson moon, opened up, a deep malice that had never been born aching, _yearning_ to break free. A decade it had waited, a full ten years since it had come so close, mere millimeters from truly being born into the world at long last—only to have it torn away by a lone man, one who had drowned in the very ideals that had propelled him through life up to that point. But this time, there was no man to stop its birth, and the three it had managed to touch, to _twist_, still remained within this plane of existence.

Yes. This time, there was nothing to possibly stop it.

The Shadow closed its eyes as the plum-haired girl's eyes cast downward to descend the stone stairwells.

"Did you believe that I had possibly forgotten about your training, little _granddaughter_?" a voice spoke, hatred and envy coloring the inflections, what few were audible from the decaying vocal chords.

Matou Sakura lay herself down on the cold, stone floor as the worms poured in, molesting her, violating her, _devouring_ her. Her conscience had already fled to the deepest recesses of her mind when the voice spoke; empty eyes spoke no words to any observers that may or may not have been present, save for a deep and cloying despair that had eternally threatened to shatter this poor child.

"Never forget, child," Makiri Zorugen, now Matou Zouken, rasped. "You are _mine_. My puppet to command. My toy with which to play."

As he left the room, one final whisper fell through the archway, lost to the girl's ears by the writhing of the maggots.

"My Grail through which to attain Akasha."

* * *

A young man, though some may not have gathered his gender askance, sat on a somewhat overstuffed sofa, glasses-covered eyes staring intently at newly bleeding markings upon his left hand. What the motif represented was well and truly open to interpretation, though if he had to guess, then the combination alluded to an odd combination of chains, ivy, and ocean waves. While the design implied who he would receive from the ritual of summons, they would not be the single being he had hoped to call forth from the ether.

Harry James Potter sighed, and not even a purring nuzzle from Len on his left shoulder, or a slight hug from Holly on his right could pull him out of this odd funk.

"You seem stressed."

Harry turned his red-and-lavender hexagonal eyes upon the addresser. Stheno stood in the doorway, a tea set balanced in her hands. The immortal Gorgon placed the tea down upon the table and poured five normal cups, as well as a small one for the spirit perched upon Harry's shoulder. Elizabeth Bathory and Frankenstein's Monster, loathe though she be to have such lack of name as her proper mode of address, took the hint and assumed physical form. The pair sat upon the sofa with their Master, Lancer on the left, Berserker on the right.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Stheno asked after taking a sip. With a sigh, Harry showed her the Command Seals inscribed upon the back of his left hand. "I see. Look," she stood and crossed past the table, kneeling in front of her adoptive brother and placing a hand comfortingly upon his knee, "we knew you probably wouldn't be the one to summon her. Hades, we're lucky to know that she will, without a doubt, be summoned at all." A small smirk briefly split the boy's frown at the Greco-Roman deity's use as a curse. "But even so, the burden shouldn't all have to be on your shoulders, you know. Those friends of yours, they'll recognize sis for who she is the moment they see her, and the similarities to you."

Stheno sat herself down upon the table while Harry took a sip of his tea, actually bothering to use his hands this time instead of the hair he had tied into a low ponytail.

"I know," he replied, voice slightly shaky. The stoic didn't understand why he was so stressed over this. Actually, yes he did, but the outward expression bothered him slightly. "I'm just worried. The Master who actually ends up summoning her could be an absolute saint, or the worst scum of the earth. We simply don't know."

Half a world away, Matou Sakura sneezed into Matou Shinji's face, prompting a slap from the waste of human genetic material before he too sneezed. The slug dismissed the possibility of being talked about before resuming his disgusting activities, ignoring the silent protests of the girl beneath him.

"Either way," Harry continued, "I want as few people to die as possible. It's already going to be difficult given this war's Lancer—"

"You already know how to off him, kiddo," Stheno lightly chided. "Remember? The Hound of Ulster died after he was weakened by broken oaths. That, or you could try and pit him against one of the stronger Servants, like a Saber or Archer. That would work, wouldn't it?"

Harry shook his head.

"You're forgetting about the other half of the Master-Servant duo," he corrected his sister. "Bazett has Fragarach, which means that any Servant fighting against her Lancer could find their own Noble Phantasm disabling them just before Gae Bolg skewers their heart. No, it's too risky; Lancer needs to be picked off from a distance, preferably where his Battle Continuation can't let him perform a Riastrad, or utter a death curse," he muttered to himself. Liz and Fran both couldn't help but cock their heads to the side in confusion, while Holly shuddered at the thought. Even in her world of origin, Cu Chulainn's Riastrad, or Warp Spasm, was truly terrifying on a level that not even the greatest of Dark Lords had ever attained. A man twisting into a lucid beast, feral in arms and sapient in tactics, was an almost unsurpassable obstacle.

"Oh!" Stheno tapped a balled-up fist into her other, open palm. "What are you doing about that hand? Did you ever figure out whose it was?"

Not a few days prior, some pathetic fool of a Magus had tried to ambush Harry within the Clock Tower kitchens, believing that his family's Sorcery Trait of toxicity would allow him to take down the Gorgon-Dead Apostle hybrid while he was cooking. Unfortunately for him, he didn't take into account the fact that Harry was mentored by Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the primogenitor of the Summon Servant ritual, and thus already _had_ a Servant—or more properly, two—watching his back. The fool found his left hand severed and right hand mangled by Liz and Fran, respectively, before he could so much as begin the first word of a two-count aria.

A heaping helping of Veritaserum afterwards revealed he'd overheard the one moment that Altrouge and Harry were ever so slightly less than quiet about the Holy Grail War, and after that, coughed up the location and defenses to his workshop. Within, they had found a severed female left hand, held in stasis, with three blank, unaltered Command Spells upon its pale surface.

"It was one of Waver's students," Harry replied. They'd found the girl deeper inside the Magus' workshop, stump cauterized, used, and starved for two days. "We ended up creating a false hand for her from gemstones—"

"Like your owls?" Holly interjected.

"… yessss." The slight hiss on Harry's voice was enough to tell that he wasn't entirely happy about the interruption, even by a companion so close as Holly. "The connection between her hand, the Command Seals, and her soul had been severed for too long to safely reattach it without costing her a Circuit or two. Even so, I don't think she wanted to participate anymore. Not after what had happened to her."

All of the room's occupants (all of whom, save Harry, were female) nodded sagely, with Stheno suppressing a shudder. Too many men of that ilk had visited the Shapeless Isle in ancient times, hoping to subjugate one of the trio for his nefarious ends. That was one of the deciders that eventually drove Medusa somewhat mad, and led to her monstrous form's birth.

"The first summoning, I want to do on the Shapeless Isle," Harry said, standing up and heading towards his room. "I'll transcribe Miss Lovejoy's former Command Seals onto myself afterwards, once we've explained to that Servant what's happening. Then we'll summon it in Japan. No catalysts. I want to see what the Grail deems fitting for me, beyond you two," he directed that last part at Liz and Fran.

"I'll be leaving for Japan in a week, and be preparing for the first summoning to happen tomorrow." Stheno nodded in reply, getting up from her seat as Harry, his two Servants, his familiar, and companion all left.

"I'll make sure everybody knows!" Stheno called back. Then she surveyed the room.

"Why am I always stuck cleaning up everybody's messes?..."

* * *

**A/N: Aaaaaand CUT!**

**Hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter. More to come. Also, I have a slight problem with abandoning stories, or just flat-out forgetting to update. Don't let me forget or otherwise gloss over that for too long, please, faithful readers?**

**I am in your debt!**


	2. Chapter Two: Summons, Part 1

**A/N: Aaaaaand we're back. Or, well, only I'm back. There's nobody else here but me. Or is there?... eh, whatever, not like it matters. Standard disclaimer: I don't own anything. If you managed to work out who the Berserker is, you get a cookie. If you managed to work out who Harry's summoning from the designs on the command spells, you get a brownie. Either way, you're about to find out who that is here.**

**This chapter, I hate to say, is slightly filler-ish. Arrivals to Fuyuki and summonings, for most. I'm going to be primarily following Heaven's Feel, because Harry's presence seriously throws off both Fate and UBW routes, because those two are so heavily reliant on Caster and Assassin being Medea and Sasaki Kojirou. As for how I'm going to handle Heaven's Feel and the Dark Berserker/True Assassin bit from the actual visual novel… well, feel free to offer up suggestions. I already have my solution in mind, but if you can give me a better one, I'm all ears! And yes, Shirou will lose his arm, get GARcher's, but thanks to a couple of different people, will not be slowly dying of brain damage. Oh, he'll still be mostly dead by the end, but that's cause his body was simply NOT READY to be using a Reality Marble so soon. However, Harry's not going to simply lose relevance; Zouken's not dying so easily this time around, especially since he sort of has Angra Mainyu's disgusting, perverse 'favor' to help him. And if you think it's over with the Fifth Heaven's Feel, you got another thing coming!**

**First up, the Shapeless Isle, then onward from there!**

* * *

"Stop playing with those."

Yumizuka Satsuki jumped in shock, the various gemstones within her hand bouncing up and down various times in her ultimately futile attempts to keep them from hitting the ground. The Dead Apostle leaned down to pick up the prana-infused gems, carefully keeping a strong hold on the Depletion Garden so that she didn't accidentally suck them completely dry, and glared at her… ahem, 'host'.

"H-harry-kun, I was just—"

"Those aren't toys," he cut her off, rather harshly in Satsuki's opinion; she'd never heard him quite so, so… _angry_ before. Or tense, for that matter. "Those are to make sure I have enough prana for the Summon Servant ritual without accidentally severing my connections to Liz and Fran from the sheer cost. If you'd drained even a fraction of a percent with your Marble, the two of them would disappear."

Satsuki paled at the realization, and locked down on the Garden even more harshly than before. With shuddering hands, she handed the gemstones back over to Harry, whose shoulders visibly relaxed when they were nestled safely within his own grasp once more. A brief apology to Satsuki, more muttered than anything, was all he could offer the young draculina before he turned back towards the other five members of his entourage.

"This will actually be my first time witnessing a normal, Grail-assisted Servant summoning," Altrouge quipped, a small quirk at the corner of her lips the only sign of her amusement with the situation. Yes, she'd been present when Harry had summoned Liz and Fran, but that was a slight fluke and not the normal. This time, it would be part and parcel of the actual Holy Grail War, with infinitely more significance than simply a bodyguard or two to make sure the craziness of Harry's home dimension didn't become slightly more fatal than they'd enjoy. "I do hope you don't manage to muck this one up too, Harry luv."

The slightest pink overtook the Gorgon hybrid's pallor; inwardly, he cursed those gods-be-damned hormones for making his interactions with his current betrothed so awkward of late. If that wasn't proof of Harry's being demisexual, and not asexual, then there was absolutely nothing to do about it. Naysayers would be naysayers, as a certain phrase is wont to be paraphrased.

A nod to Liz and Fran was returned before the two of them disappeared from sight, entering astral form so as not to startle the soon to be summoned Servant into immediately fighting. That was the opposite result anybody wished; after all, if they wanted this war to end with everybody alive and well at the end, despite the kill-or-be-killed nature of the Heaven's Feel ritual, due caution was required. Oh yes, due caution was most certainly required, more so than any other time now or in any other part of the near future. Harry James Potter was dealing with forces far beyond his ken, even after having been immersed within Akasha itself.

And while he'd come away with an increased aptitude for magecraft, wizardcraft, and acceleration towards a True Magic, he could only channel so much prana as his body allowed. That was why Liz and Fran were still at risk: the ritual to summon a Servant was incredibly costly, almost always requiring one's magical peak. Sadly, the Shapeless Isle's odd existence made attaining that peak impossible, though the boosts to any Servant that possessed Divinity if summoned her more than made up for it.

But his thoughts were getting away from him. Harry took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and stepped forward.

"Let's begin."

Harry raised his hand up, and with his other withdrew a silver athame from a small sheath on his belt. With a slow, but decisive slice, he let his blood pour out onto the quicksilver and diamond summoning circle that Altrouge had been instrumental in setting up.

Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.  
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.  
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).  
Repeat every five times.  
Simply, shatter once filled.  
――――I announce.  
Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.  
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.  
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.  
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！

The light grew to a crescendo, accompanied by the song of doves. Sea foam and flowers, a heady combination of aromas, flooded the area as the mist blew away, revealing the Servant summoned.

Black dress clung tightly to a well-endowed, curved body, the tailoring gently leading the eye along the flow, a wave coming into shore with the rising tide. Long, lustrous black hair complemented pale, milky skin, and pointed elfin ears emerged from within her ebony mane. Her boots offered a heeled lift, raising her height to an above-average five foot seven inches.

The Servant opened her eyes, revealing slit, serpentine pupils, and as she slowly opened rosy lips, the reek of venom flowed over the area's occupants. This was no ordinary Servant. This was a truly deadly creature, beautiful yet lethal.

"Servant Assassin. By your summons, I have come. I ask of you," she walked towards Harry, her heels clicking on the marble ruins of the Shapeless Isle. She tilted the young man's head up to see her, though only just barely, and leaned in close, to whisper into his ear.

"Are you my Master, young Gorgon?"

* * *

"Urgh…"

Within the confines of an elegant Western mansion, a slumbering beast stirred. From deep within the comfortable folds of a duvet cover and quilt, a slim, manicured hand grasped about, desperately searching for that one thing it sought above all else. The tired creature's struggles ceased as the hand closed around a sport-top bottle, runes inscribed upon its surface ensuring the chill of its confines. The thumb flicked open the top in a manner that somehow didn't break a delicate nail, and slipped underneath the blanket, spilling a single drop of white liquid on an equally pure-snow feather pillow.

Mere moments later, Tohsaka Rin emerged, somehow energized faster than anybody should ever be, even with a shot of epinephrine… by a nice, tall glass of milk.

"Itsuka daga… nande!?"

Rin's eyes positively bugged out when she looked at her clock. Despite being more tired than she could remember normally being, she was just about late for school! The Tohsaka heiress burst out of her bed, hand already grasping the dressing gown she would wear the moment she finished up with her morning shower. There wasn't any issue of waiting for her hair to dry—Rin was a prodigious Magus, and an Average One at that, one with an equal allegiance to all five standard elements. It was a simple application of Fire, Wind, and Ether that dried her hair in five seconds better than any salon could, and while she chided Harry and Shirou so for wasting magic on such frivolous things as tying shoes or repairing broken fans, respectively, she herself wasn't _entirely_ above forced convenience.

Only mostly.

A quick reach into the pantry (which, for somebody living alone, was ludicrously barren) retrieved an energy bar, which Rin ate on her way out the door. Homurabara Gakuen school uniform skirt adorned her legs, and sadly she had not managed to shorten it to her preferred length without drawing the ire of Toramono and her Tora-Shinai. A chill ran down Rin's spine, and she offered up apologies to whatever demon had created a Noble Phantasm out of a bloody _shinai_, and in the _modern fucking age_ to boot. She had not intention of being on the receiving end of Fujimura Taiga's wrath today… no, that was for Emiya-kun and Matou Shinji alone. More the latter. She actually liked Shirou, but sometimes the lug needed a good hit over the head.

* * *

Emiya Shirou and Matou Sakura shared a quiet moment preparing breakfast at the Emiya estate, savoring the relative quiet that preceded the arrival of Shirou's self-proclaimed 'guardian and positive influence'. As if Taiga could positively influence anybody in her life.

The two of them continued preparing the breakfast in companionable silence. Sakura stirred some tofu into the miso soup before adding a dash of soy, while Shirou ensured that their fish was pan-fried to perfection. While the Age of Gods had ended long ago, these two certainly qualified for apotheosis, if only on the merits of their cooking. The gods themselves would weep (and if you counted Stheno and Euryale, actually _had_) at the love and time put into the pair's culinary efforts.

Sadly, the peace was not to last.

"The Command Seals appeared," both occupants said at the same time. Then they looked at the other, and blushed. Shirou, for all his dense nature, had recently started to notice that Sakura… well, that he really thought Sakura was a beautiful young woman, and that his feelings toward her had started to shift slightly from simply "one of my two good female friends". Something in their interactions had become more intimate, more personal, and while he could say that he also loved Rin very much… it was a different type of feeling.

Both of them looked away, back to their current task. Just as Shirou reached for the shouyu, Sakura finally spoke up.

"I… Grandfather had me make Shinji the Master of Rider. I wanted to say no, but… I tried to, but—"

The memory of what had happened at her resistance forced a pair of tears into the miso, disturbing the surface. Her fingers traced the outline of where her remaining two Command Spells should be, were it not for the Makiri magecraft, and the Book of False Attendant.

"We need to tell Harry-kun," she spoke up. "Rider, she, she looks just like him. The glyph, the blindfold, the purple hair, the posture…"

"Yeah." There was nothing else that needed to be said. Shirou was honestly surprised that Sakura had already summoned, though it was likely attempted duplicity on her part. The Bounded Fields on the Emiya home prevented familiars from relaying what they heard, which made it Sakura's safe haven for conversation. As was the park, really; something about that park rendered any familiars they tried to make, even _Zelretch's_, go catatonic and fail to report any information. Shirou knew better than anybody what that was.

He was the strongest steel, a blade forged from the flames of hardship in the foundry of purest agony and evil, emerging as something completely separate from the original. He would likely never find his birth family, if they even existed, but it didn't matter much to him. Emiya Shirou was completely different from whoever had existed before the Great Fuyuki Fire.

That golden sword in his dreams, though… even to the foundry laying at the deepest levels of his soul, it was an alien object. Confusing. Unique in all aspects. And yet the moment he saw it, the dream faded to something _else_. A pure black object, a sphere of deepest nothing held aloft by four spines. Something walked to it, something fell underneath it, something walked out of it, and roamed. It had taken him a long time, but somehow, Shirou _knew_ that one of them was Kiritsugu. That Kiritsugu had looked into that cauldron of deepest nothingness, and _walked away_.

"…pai? Senpai?"

"G-gomen, Sakura-chan. What did you say?"

"Ano…" Sakura fidgeted, a difficult endeavor with the pot of miso in her oven mitt-clad hands. "When will you do the summoning?..."

Ah. That. Shirou didn't want to compete in this fool's contest. There was nothing he wanted truly, no desire that an omnipotent wish could possibly offer unto him. And yet, his savior complex would not allow him to simply turn away from the Fifth Heaven's Feel. The risk that somebody with truly evil intentions would create another calamity, like that of ten years prior, the catastrophe that had forged his bones into the blade of a sword…

"Tonight."

Shirou finished cutting up the fish for serving and looked up. Even in his "Real Men Bravely Wear Pink" apron, he was a fearsome sight to behold.

"I'll do it tonight."

* * *

"Ah dinnae like this place," the Servant of the Lance commented, talking around the lit cigarette in his mouth. "It ain't no holy place I ever been in. Feels…" Lancer shuddered. This place felt too much like _her_ den for comfort. At least the odds of _that_ witch appearing were slim to none, given her sorta deified status. At least, he hoped so.

"I know, Setanta—"

"That innae mah name anymore, Bazett," Lancer bit back. "I gave that one up. Just use Lancer… we're still in public. Or 'as the big, bad Enforcer forgotten what's going on 'ere?"

The rose-haired Magus had the decency to blush in slight shame. True, her behavior had been less than its usual professional since she'd found the Command Seals engraved upon her hand, and realized just what it entailed. Bazett had been acting funny ever since she'd summoned Cu Chulainn, the greatest hero of her nation, within her home country, specifically at the special forges where Fragarach was crafted to this day. She possessed enough metal vessels to use one of the only Noble Phantasms remaining in the modern day seven times. Originally she only had six, but Zelretch and Waver had given her a particular warning concerning the Fourth Heaven's Feel.

And also a separate warning, this time one concerning the church she and Lancer were about to enter.

"_Do not trust the priest Kotomine,"_ Zelretch had told her. _"He was a participant of the Fourth War, and his father was moderator of both the Third and Fourth. For him to moderate the Fifth speaks foul of his intentions."_

"_There was a Servant remaining after the end of the last War,"_ Waver had added. _"A man with blonde hair, inhuman red eyes, reeking of Divinity and wealth, and usually wearing gold armor. If you see him, get two Fragarach ready and start running. The previous Archer is not to be trifled with. Just be glad he's land-bound this time…"_

That last bit had been immensely ominous to her. But really, there was not much other option but to go to the church. Bazett and Lancer had to register with the Moderator, and so long as the Moderator was Kotomine Kirei, there lay no option but to 'trust' the false priest.

"Fortune favors the bold," she mumbled to herself in English, the Irish lilt in her voice. Bazett pushed open the door, and Lancer followed her in. The two of them had expected to find somebody waiting for them, or at least they'd hoped to see Kotomine at the podium, working on a sermon.

Instead, the church was empty.

"Hello?" Bazett called out. She instinctively slipped her runed gloves on, the clusters activating at a thought and glowing with the slightest of eldritch lights.

"Welcome to the Fuyuki Church," a voice said from directly behind the Master/Servant duo. "May I be of assistance?"

"What the—!" Bazett and Lancer whipped around, each with a weapon at the ready, to find the Moderator of the Grail War standing before them, one hand holding a carryout box, the other a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks. The carryout box's scent was something that the two of them should never have been able to miss, but then again, Kotomine had just come in the doors to his own church himself.

Bazett started to sweat. That was _mapo tofu_ in the takeout box. And the more horrifying part of it all?

The Reinforcement on her eyes could see the receipt was for five mapo tofu. _There was only one left in the box_.

"Y-yes," Bazett managed, while Lancer simply glared at the priest, demonic spear in hand. "I'm here to register as a Master in the Holy Grail War."

"I see," Kotomine spoke around a bite of mapo tofu. Bazett and Lancer winced in perfect symmetry every time he put a piece of that stuff into his mouth. On a dare, she, Harry, Arcueid, and Altrouge had all tried some. None had been able to stomach more than a single bite. Altrouge herself had lost her appetite for blood for a _week_ afterwards. _Mapo tofu had temporarily made the undead living again_…

And yet here was this priest, just chomping away at the stuff like it was _nothing!_

"While I am sure you understand the rules of the Holy Grail War, I believe that, due to the recent influx of infractions in the past two Wars," Bazett's eyes narrowed at this, "I fear I must explain the rules once more. As you know, there are seven Masters, and seven Servants. No fighting between Servants is to occur until after all seven have been summoned; you will know when all seven have been summoned to this plane by a burning in the Command Seals. You will feel that same burn when a Servant nears, but only after all seven have been summoned already."

Lancer had already sat down in a pew, and he pulled Bazett into his lap good-naturedly. Waver had explained, specifically to him, that the males of the Kotomine family had a horrid tendency towards being long-winded and verbose. May as well get comfy for this.

"Fighting in daytime, unless specifically in an area of the city that cannot be perceived by those unaware of Magecraft's existence, is absolutely forbidden. All fighting, save for the aforementioned exception, is to take place under cover of night; the slightly… energetic, for lack of a better word, nature of Noble Phantasms makes it easier for the Church's Executors to cover up should they be used at night.

"Should a pair of Master and Servant take actions that endanger the secrecy of Magecraft, or an outside force interfere in Fuyuki City—I do believe you understand what I mean by force, McRemitz-san—then the Holy Grail War is temporarily suspended until such time as the dangerous Master and Servant, or external threat, are eliminated. As a show of support, and to hopefully foster a marginal attempt to cooperate, the Master(s) and Servant(s) responsible for eliminating the threat will be gifted with an extra Command Spell."

Somehow, Bazett could _hear_ a parenthetical around the plural modifiers in the priest's voice. Was that the Kotomine family's sorcery trait? Or was it something else?

"Furthermore, when only two Servants remain, there will be a one-day ceasefire, during which the two pairs are to meet at the Church to determine a location for their final battle. Attacking or attempting an ambush during this ceasfire will cost a Command Spell for every infraction.

"Lastly, the Einzbern family has once again provided a vessel for the Lesser Grail," here the Priest's odd, self-satisfied smirk turned into a sneer of distaste. "Additionally, she is also acting as the Einzbern Master, which means that she is only allowed to be eliminated by defeating the Servant, being that the Master herself is off limits on pain of losing Command Seals. I believe the Einzbern homunculus summoned a Berserker class Servant several months ago, and has been supporting it without assistance from the Greater Grail."

Lancer choked on his cigarette, forcing Bazett to thump him several times on the back. Somebody had supported a _Berserker_ for several months without the Greater Grail!? If the Einzberns had fielded that kind of monster as a _Master_, what did that mean for the actual Servant!?

"Alas, while normally I would be finished with you, as the Moderator to a Master in the Heaven's Feel, I am afraid there is another matter we must discuss." Kotomine raised his face to Bazett's, the expression eerily similar to a wolf staring at sheep. "Executor of the Church to Enforcer of the Magus Association, that is. I believe we have much to discuss…"

* * *

"It's almost time, it's almost time, itsu da ne!"

Tohsaka Rin, for all of her school idol persona, was actually a terrifyingly disorganized young woman. She had been preparing for this night for two _years_, and yet she still managed to misplace the gems she'd be using to power the Summon Servant ritual. How such a thing was possible truly happened to be beyond her, but despite this, Rin knew that she would summon the single greatest Servant in the history of the Holy Grail Wars. She, a prodigious magus with a full hundred natural Magic Circuits, another hundred from the Tohsaka crest, with the aptitude of an Average One, at her magical peak, combined with the prana stored within her various gems, would most certainly be able to pull the strongest card from the entire deck: a Saber-class Servant! Yes, Rin had done her research, and she knew that in every single Holy Grail War thus far, a Saber had been in the final two. It was all but a guarantee to make it to the bitter end; she just had to be _smart_ about it.

The clock rank. Rin pricked her finger on the sharp facet of a gem and allowed her blood to fall onto the ritual circle, the same silver one that her father had used ten years prior, and her great-grandfather sixty years before him.

"_Anfang."_ That simple word was the one-count aria that Rin used to activate her Magic Circuits. Od poured through the pathways of her soul, heating her body to uncomfortable levels. Sweat began to bead on her forehead; she was not used to channeling this sheer quantity of prana at once, but she would be _damned_ if she failed, not after coming this far damn it!

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gemstone and the archduke of contracts to the fold. Our ancestor is the great master Schweinorg." Rin suppressed a mental snort. She'd nearly said "Harry's grandpa" instead of "great master". She really needed to clamp down on her discipline.

"Fill (shut). Fill (shut). Fill (shut). Fill (shut). Fill (shut). Repeat five times. Ones filled, simply destroy.

"I hereby declare: I shall be all that is good and just in the heavens. I shall be all that is evil in hell. If thou, clad in the holy trinity, abidest by the contract… come forth**—!**"

The light flared, the song of magic grew to a crescendo, the heat in Rin's circuits flared to an unbearable agony—and then nothing.

"N-nande? What, but I did everything correctly… but how? Did I mess up the ritual? Let's see, fill five times, yes I did that, clad in the holy trinity uh-huh, silver, iron, gemstone, archduke, it's all there… Urgh! What did I do wron—"

An immense _crash_ rocked the manor. Rin panicked; was that an Enforcer, come to destroy the Tohsaka lineage for some perceived slight against a Clock Tower family that didn't receive Command Spells? Or was it something even worse—another Servant already!? Hers hadn't even shown up! Rin raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, until she arrived in the living room—

She found a stack of broken chairs, debris from the roof, leaves, and dirt all over her floor. And seated atop that… was a man. Tall, darkly tanned skin, silver hair. His eyes were a steel grey color, the shade of freshly-polished metal. His scent was of oil and fire and blood, bearing one of melancholy and sad irony, but also… amused nostalgia?

"Hah," he spoke at last. "What a terrible Master I must have, to have been summoned through the roof. Are you even a Magus, or are you just a silly girl that has to be killed now?"

Rin saw red. But in the next moment, she calmed herself down, as she saw something slip out from the red-clad man's collar.

A gemstone. A gemstone that he could not _possibly_ have, given that Rin was wearing it around her neck _right this very moment_, and the only person that she would ever even slightly, somewhat, maybe outlandishly _consider_ giving it to was—

"Emiya-kun? Honki dekita… Emiya-kun?"

Her Servant froze up for the barest fraction of a second, but that was all she needed. Rin burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all.

The Fake Janitor kept talking about how he wanted to be a hero. Guess he'd actually managed it, hadn't he?

* * *

**AND cut. I would have more, but right now I'm in the Frankfurt airport on my way to Nice, so may as well get this up while I have a brief period of internet. Enjoy!**


	3. Chapter Three: Summons, Part 2

**A/N: Hello, hello, sorry for the delay; I've been helping my twin get settled in for his semester of study abroad. Now, however, I'm sitting in the airport in Nice at a god-awful hour of the morning, about to get on one flight, then a 3-hour layover, then a 10-hour flight, then ANOTHER 3-hour layover, then ANOTHER flight before I'm actually home. So I may as well get some writing done, wouldn't y'all say?**

**First, Ilya's new Berserker. It is Krieg the Psycho from Borderlands 2, and the only fictional character from another work summoned as Servant. There will be another original Servant joining the 7, though… if you want a hint, just go look at the church scene from chapter 2. It's hidden there…**

**Second, I've been asked why I'm doing this since the original Fate's Gamble isn't even AT the HGW yet. Well, it's getting really darn close guys. Besides, you didn't ****_really_**** think I'd be all done with just the Fifth Heaven's Feel over and done with? Oh, no no no… I have plans. And those plans have plans. And those plans have plans, which have plans within plans layered on top of plans hidden inside a contingency plan… somebody stop me.**

* * *

"I hate airplanes…"

A beautiful young women with chestnut hair falling to her lower back and warm, chocolate eyes stepped out of the charter plane, and instantly sunk to her knees upon touching the ground, reveling in the feeling. This may not have been the most appropriate thing to do, given that her attire was offering the passengers behind her a tantalizing glimpse up her skirt. Luckily, none of them cared.

"You could have taken the Kaleidoscope, Master," another voice spoke, regal in bearing yet teasing in timbre. A vision of the finest beauty stepped down the disembarkment stairs, a light smile teased over quirked lips, amusement dancing in her eyes. She wore black jeans with a flare to the bottom of the pant leg, heeled sandals barely peeking out the bottom, with a deep-red blouse underneath a black leather jacket on her top. Her hair had been pulled into a French braid and draped over her left shoulder, a silver shell ornament at the bottom holding the style together.

"No, we really couldn't have, Assassin," Amethyst replied, vowing to herself to find a better name to call her Servant than just the class; it was a dead giveaway. "There are too many magi congregated in Fuyuki right now, and if I used that to get there, somebody would have sensed us. It's why I'm in this form and not going as Harry and Holly. Too recognizable."

Liz and Fran followed the duo off the plane, simply slipping through the walls in their astral form, as another two figures debarked the small, airborne vehicle. Two more females, one an apparent fourteen years of age with black hair and deep, wine-red eyes, and another with crimson hair and a shining, sapphire gaze, stood around the truly youngest among them as she fought to control her nausea. While the apparently-youngest of them simply smiled to herself and shook her head, arms crossed over her chest, the redhead took no high ground and began relentlessly teasing her companion.

"Hey, hey," Aoko started, both punctuated with a light poke to the back of Amy's neck, "who knew your combined form got motion sickness, eh mahou shoujo-chan?"

A visible gloom fell over the young woman, silent curses at a centuries-old vampire geezer issuing not-so-politely from between clenched jaws and ground teeth. No, she really didn't mind the combined form, but it was the original reveal, along with the prior outfit, that both souls within the body absolutely detested. At least the old trickster had gotten his comeuppance when neither of the two demanded he reverse everything. Sometimes, the most satisfying payback was the exact opposite of the expected reaction, wasn't it?

"I'll be fine, la blue girl," she fired back, watching her friend's face darken, then pale as the implications of the first word hit her. She'd seen enough hentai to know where _that_ one was going. "Let's get off this airstrip and back home; let's try and convene a war council tonight between our allies, see if we can get up to speed."

"Ah, about that." All eyes turned to Altrouge, who'd spoken up not moments after everybody else had nodded their assent. "Bazett will have to pull out of our alliance. Something else has come up with the war. Enforcer business."

As everybody started to proclaim their understanding, Assassin managed to put two and two together… but got banana.

"Wait, how could you possibly know that? We were on a plane for—"

"I can feel whenever somebody wants to feed another to Primate Murder."

A beat ticked by. Then another. And another. Then another after that.

"So you mean—"

"Yep."

"And also…"

"Uh-huh."

"Including that one time—"

"Primate Murder doesn't eat gingers," Altrouge viciously interrupted. "The lack of soul gives her indigestion."

Nobody had any response to that last bit.

* * *

"Trace, On."

Twenty-seven natural circuits, and an additional three temporarily-converted nerve circuits, thrummed with heat and energy. Rin, Harry, and Sakura would no doubt kill him if they found out just what he'd planned to give his summoning a little more power, but he didn't have the time to think about that. The Holy Grail War was nearly underway, and it would be a cold day in Hell before Emiya Shirou, Hero of Justice, let the disaster of a decade prior come to pass a second time.

"Silver and iron to the origin," he chanted, standing over the same magic circle in his shed that had been used by his adoptive father and late stepmother. "Gemstone and the archduke of contracts to the corner. Our ancestor is the great master Schweinorg."

The circle itself had been modified in an attempt to amplify the summoning's power. Given his Origin and Element, alongside his personal skill with archery, Shirou knew that he was summoning either a Saber or an Archer. Rin had already called and sent a message saying that she'd summoned him—_a_ him, she'd been quick to clarify, considering he himself wasn't currently standing amidst a pile of rubble in her living room—as an Archer-class Servant.

"Fill (shut), fill (shut), fill (shut), fill (shut), fill (shut). Enclose five times. Once filled, simply destroy."

To that end, Shirou had rigged the summoning as close to a Saber in his favor. The circle itself had been enclosed in blades, and Traced replicas of Avalon enclosed the circle in a pentagon.

"I hereby declare: I shall be all that is good in the heavens. I shall be all that is evil in the hells.

The divine sheath of King Arthur itself, hidden away inside of his body and adjacent to the soul-scape of his Reality Marble, would act as the catalyst for the summoning ritual. If all went well, he would have an incredibly powerful Servant to fight alongside him, one that could overcome any obstacle, ford any valley, cross any mountain. One whose honor demanded they never back down.

One very similar to Shirou himself.

"If thou should abidest by my summons, thou clad in the holy trinity, then I bid thee…"

The hammer in his head cocked back a second time.

"Come _forth_!"

The bullet fired.

* * *

Deep underneath Fuyuki City, something _stirred_. An earthquake, not even a three on the Richter scale, but more than the area had seen in the past few months, sent tremors through the surrounding area. Something of great power had awoken. And it was full of rage, rage and _hate_.

Angra Mainyu felt the summoning going through the Grail, reaching out to that odd space between life and death that the Once and Future King resided within. The summoning had latched on, pulling the Heroic Spirit into the material realm—the same Heroic Spirit that had prevented its full birth a decade prior.

Ahriman writhed. Angra Mainyu stirred. Avenger roiled. It would not have this. It _would not_ let another Emiya, another of those pathetic, wretched _idealists_, use the same sword to prevent its birth a second time! **IT WOULD NOT HAVE IT!**

Black tendrils of mud and muck surrounded the immaterial spirit, pulling it deep within its bowels and depths. King Arthur would not be illuminating the world with the Sword of Promised Victory.

Not this time.

* * *

A figure seemed to appear within Shirou's circle, hazy and translucent, but before the image could solidify, it vanished. The light of the summoning changed to a deep red un-light, and a new form appeared where the previous had vanished.

Burnished silver armor with crimson inlays covered a towering figure, mighty in stature and imposing in form. Clawed gauntlets grasped a ceremonial silver blade, one that, while representative of a kingship, was still a truly mighty artisan's work, a true centerpiece in the art of war. A scent, the copper tones of dried blood, drifted upon the air as the summoning finished, and the knight stood before Shirou for mere moments.

Then they fell to a knee, offered the sword hilt-first to the young man… and dispelled the armor.

"Servant Saber, by your summons I have come. I ask of you…"

The girl looked up, pale emerald eyes framed by faded blonde hair and slightly ashen skin looking into burnished copper.

"Are you my Master?"

* * *

"You _stupid!_ _Pathetic! BITCH!_"

The meaty thud of flesh on bone sounded through the area, as mortal fist impacted anti-divine cheekbone and jaw repeatedly, seemingly without end.

"_All_ I asked was for you to get one girl. _One girl_! All you had to do was grab that fucking bitch Mitsuzuri…"

The young man took two steps away before turning around, face contorted in a mask of fury.

"And you can't even get _that_ right, you stupid fucking _BITCH!_"

The impact of his foot on her face never came. A light hand had found its way onto Matou Shinji's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Sweat tracked down his face and his heart pounded in his throat, left hand desperately tightening around the Book of False Attendant which enforced his will.

The Servant was no longer in front of him. Instead, she stood to his side, the nails of her fingers digging painfully into his shoulder.

"You may be my Master at the moment, boya," she spoke, voice soft with rage. Small rivulets of blood erupted underneath her fingertips, the boy quashing a squeak of pain, ashen features drawn into a mask of horror.

"But while I will follow your orders, and do as you demand, there is one thing you must know."

A chain encircling the boy's ankle, heretofore unnoticed, tightened around the offending limb and _pulled_. Shinji squealed in fright as the unnamed weapon hoisted him into the air, an acrid scent staining the air as liquid ran down the front of his upside-down body.

"I am _nobody's_ plaything, least of all yours… mortal."

The chain disappeared as though it was never there, sending Shinji crashing to the ground. Rider had already changed to astral form and left the area, nursing the bites on her fingers.

The insects retracted into the Book of False Attendant, their duty continually fulfilled.

Miles away, Zoukens face broke into a rotten sneer.

* * *

"So what're you gonna cook for me tonight, Emiya-kun?" Rin asked in a playful tone, taking way more pleasure in this particular situation than Archer thought was particularly healthy. The evil grin on her face probably had something to do with his bad feeling. Rin's whispers under her breath about making the idiot indirectly get what was coming to him wasn't exactly very encouraging, either.

"Nothing."

"—be a risotto pasta followed b—eh?" Rin stopped dead in her tracks… which made a very funny scene, considering she was balancing on one foot, the other pulling one of her trademark thigh-highs up her leg. She stood there for a good ten seconds of pure silence, just staring at Archer.

A cold sweat started working its way down the back of his neck.

* * *

Shirou and Saber sat companionably at his table, awaiting Taiga's arrival. However, in the meantime, the setting was rather idyllic and peaceful. This assumes, of course, that Shirou didn't have a somewhat red face from peeking at his Servant's slightly scandalous attire… and that Saber didn't notice it.

Of course, their topic of discussion was pretty good at distracting the Servant. Funny stories from the past will do that.

"So there was this one time, Gawain and I had just gotten back from investigating rumors that the Green Knight was back, obviously they were false, but along the way we'd procured this cask of the most amazing mead! Well we'd each drunk about a quarter of it on the way back, so neither of us is standing up particularly straight on our horses, singing dirty limericks the whole way back, and there at the gate is who else bu—"

"WHAT DO YOU **MEAN** NOTHING, YOU USELESS SACK OF HORSESHIT!?"

Seconds passed. Those seconds turned into minutes. Eventually the birds resumed their song, the crickets continued chirping, and that one spider went back to spinning its web around a Japanese Giant Hornet that had flown into its web the night before.

Shirou pulled himself out from under the table. Saber sent her sword back into hammerspace, the silvery outline of her armor fading. Taiga fell down from the rafters in very slow fashion, drifting side-to-side like a piece of paper… further heightening Shirou's belief that she probably knew all about Magecraft first-hand.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Then…

"Let us never mention this again." Shirou and Saber nodded in agreement and returned to their breakfast as Sakura came in, trying to hide the fact that she was favoring the right leg. Another moment passed, until…

"SHIROU! WHAT IS THIS GIRL DOING IN YOUR HOUSE!? OH, KIRI, HOW ASHAMED YOU WOULD BE OF YOUR DELINQUENT SON, BRINGING RANDOM SLUTS HOME DURING HIS WALKS OF SHAME!"

A crack, and Saber's tea spilled all over her lap from where she broke her tea. An aura of bloodthirst and hate rolled off of her in waves, such that even the Tora-Shinai began to quaver in fear.

"No no wait a moment miss I'm sorry I didn't mean i—"

* * *

"Exactly what I said," Counter Guardian EMIYA replied, one pinky probing his ear to make sure the one facing Rin hadn't had its eardrum burst. The other had managed to pick up the sounds of what could only be Taiga… begging for forgiveness and cowering in fear? Nah, that can't be right. This was the _Tiger of Fuyuki_ he was talking about, daughter and heir apparent to the local Oyabun of the Yakuza.

"But, but, but…"

Archer sighed at Rin's sudden shake, trying desperately to avert his eyes from the massively oversized tear threatening to spill forth. He walked over to the cabinet and opened it up, releasing a sigh. Some part of him twitched at that; cabinets didn't _sigh_. A moment later a squirrel walked up to the edge of the cabinet on two legs, chittered angrily at Archer, demanded something or other of Rin, shook its fuzzy fist at them, blew a raspberry at the Servant, then slammed the cabinet closed.

Nobody spoke.

…

"Rin."

"Archer."

"You have a sapient squirrel living in your pantry."

"His name is Kinemaru."

"… squirrel circle. Great." Archer let his head fall into his hand, two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Remind me to kill Zelretch next time I see him."

"Don't. I doubt his grandson would like that much."

A moment passed.

"Rin."

"Yes Archer?"

"Please tell me that you didn't just say that Zelretch has a grandson."

"Oh yeah, his name is Harry Potter, he wears this stupid fricking blindfold and has a magical girl staff and—Emiya-kun, what the hell are you doing with that sword!? Put that down, no, ack, get that off your throat you, DON'T MAKE ME USE A COMMAND SPELL, YOU IDIOT!"

* * *

"We all set, Aoko?"

The young user of the Fifth True Magic stood up from where she'd been kneeling over, pressing a hand to the soreness in her back, and inspected the circle she'd been preparing. She'd managed to pilfer some more materials from her sister when Touko had been testing out another of her new puppets over in the Bayankala mountain range in China—no clue why she'd picked that location, don't ask Aoko—and had used those to create the summoning circle. Hopefully, it'd also let Harry transfer the command spells from Athasia Lovejoy's severed hand onto his own without overly much difficulty, but sometimes Gaia was finicky, and the Greater Grail even more so.

"Yeah, it looks like it. You're gonna want to do this quickly; I can't remove it from the passage of time without contaminating the Summon Servant ritual, so you've only got twenty minutes before it starts to decompose. Why'd you want an organic summoning circle, anyway?"

"We're dealing with an omnipotent artifact tainted by the _physical embodiment of all the world's evils_, Aoko," Harry replied, matter-of-factly. He had his hair reduced in length (a trick he'd learned from Tonks in that other world), and it sat roughly mid-back in a high tail. Two strands framed the sides of his face, ending just below his chin, and he wore his Mystic Eye Killers instead of his customized Breaker Gorgon. "If I want to exploit the system and summon yet _another_ Servant for myself, I'm going to have to start appeasing the damn thing. Not much better way to do that than make this circle as…" Harry searched for the proper descriptor for a few moments, but came up empty.

"Satanic?" Assassin supplied, still clad in her casual attire.

"That's a good one," he acknowledged, grasping onto the option. "If we can get this as satanic as possible, then it should distract Ahriman—"

"Angra Mainyu, Harry," Aoko corrected.

"Actually they're two names for the same thing, and since it seems we all really want to interrupt me, I'm just going to get on with the damn ritual."

Harry closed his eyes as he turned towards the circle, and tapped into his circuits. Prana hummed to life as od flowed through his body. He outstretched his hand, opened his crimson gaze, and set his stance firmly.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gemstone and the archduke of contracts to the corner. Our ancestor is the great master Schweinorg…"

* * *

Thousands of miles away, a figure looked up as something drew its attention. A sneer spread across a twisted face, as light illuminated the circle at their feet.

"_Legacy of the Tuatha: Summerlands Shallowing._"

* * *

"If thou abidest by this contract, thou clad in the holy trinity, accept the summons and come _forth—!_"

The meaty circle at Harry's feet flared up, the light growing to blinding… and disappeared.

"What th—"

"_MASTER!_"

"Harry, look!"

He spun on his heel, eyes following Aoko's finger to gaze at the circle, which had reappeared underneath Assassin. The Wise Queen of Assyria found herself lifted into the air as _power_ flowed through her spirit, altering her, improving her, _empowering_ her. Out of the corner of Harry's vision, that odd semblance of a computer screen that told him, and any other Master, about the Servants they encountered, flared up as a new entry listed itself under Assassin's.

"Dual Summons?..."

The light faded and the summoning circle disappeared, taking the severed hand of Athasia Lovejoy, and the Command Seals inscribed upon its surface, with it.

"Assassin?" Harry's voice was carefully measured, fingers closing around the twisted athame he had 'liberated' from the Department of Mysteries… just in case. "Are you okay?"

Semiramis stared down at her hands for a moment before prana hummed to life, and a dove appeared nestled within her palms. A brilliant smile blossomed to life upon her face.

"It seems that I've just become a Caster as well, but only occupy the mantle of Assassin," she spoke, eyes firmly fixed upon the dove, cooing as she rubbed a finger over the top of its head and down its white-feathered neck.

"Then that means…"

* * *

"Servant Caster, by your summons I have come. I ask of you…"

* * *

"There's another Master out there. And somehow, they've hijacked the Summon Servant ritual to acquire a Caster of their own."

The Command Spells emblazoned upon Harry's arm flared to life, burning a brilliant crimson as they burned through the bandages with which he had covered them.

_"All Seven Servants have been summoned"_, an ethereal voice spoke.

* * *

"Are you my Master?"

The figure chuckled before stepping forward, showing the back of their left hand to the newly-summoned Servant. The representation of a cliff face, with the sunset and a will-o-wisp burned crimson, and the Servant nodded.

"Very well, our contract is complete."

"Indeed. Now, let us go forth and claim the Holy Grail…" The figure began to turn and walk away, opening up a door at the other side of the hallway.

* * *

Within the Church, Gilgamesh sneered at the false priest, the so-called 'Moderator' of the War.

_"Let the Fifth Heaven's Feel… begin!"_

* * *

"… Scathach."

"Yes, Master," the revealed Caster spoke, sword in one hand, staff in the other. Power flowed over her person, an impossible quantity of runes emblazoned upon her person and floating in the air, surrounding She Who Was Too Strong.

_"Let's."_


	4. Chapter Four: Meat Bicycle Built For Two

**A/N: Hello again!~ Bet none of you saw that coming, hm? Altria/Arturia has been swallowed by Angra Mainyu, and a different Saber has emerged in her place. Not to mention, Harry's summoning of Caster was stolen, and the single most dangerous Caster to possibly be summoned **_**ever**_**, even compared to Merlin Satanspawn, has emerged on the field of the Holy Grail War. Some of you may not think Scathach is that dangerous, but think about it this way: there is no class she can be summoned as save Caster. However, even as that, **_**she can defeat our Lancer in an all-out fight through physical ability alone**_**. Of the apotheosis trinity of Heracles, Karna, and Scathach, she's the only one to become a deity without the external intervention of another. Heracles was granted ascension by his father, Karna by his, but Scathach? She simply **_**became**_**. **

**As for her enigmatic Master, well… I'm allowed original characters, aren't I? Lupine Horror has Elestia, Holly, etcetera. I have somebody who uses Faerie magicks. Anyway, time to reveal the name of the various Servants, as well as their appearances.**

**Saber: Mordred (Fate/Apocrypha)**

**Archer: Counter Guardian EMIYA (Fate/stay night, Fate/Extra, Fate/Extra CCC)**

**Lancer: Cu Chulainn (Fate/stay night, Fate/Extra)**

**Rider: Medusa (Fate/stay night)**

**Caster: Scathach (original; Irish mythos)**

**Berserker: Krieg the Psycho (Borderlands 2)**

**Assassin: Semiramis (Fate/Apocrypha)**

**Noble Phantasms and skills will be revealed as they are used, with the exception of those abilities Berserker already displayed. Yes, even canon characters will have a couple of differences. In addition, our protagonist tetrad (Shirou, Rin, Sakura, Harry) will all have something happen to them. It won't just be Dark!Sakura and Brain Damage!Shirou that show up. Now that that's out of the way, and I've left y'all guessing, on with the show, everybody! Let the Holy Grail War begin in earnest!**

* * *

A chime resounded through the Emiya complex, drawing Saber's attention away from her punching ba—er, trainee. Yes, that was the word he… wait, no, she… wait, um, he… but last time somebody called Saber a girl she'd broken an arrow off in their butt… oh screw it, _she_; the biology matched, no matter how much it annoyed the life out of her. But yeah, trainee. That's the word she was looking for. Definitely _not_ masochistic Master with a stupid hero complex, though really they were pretty much the same thing, when she thought about it.

Damn. Did that mean Saber had to start acting girly, too? Well, her attire definitely implied a touch of feminity, cause no guy displays that much skin outside of certain sporting events. And besides, she kinda liked some of the stuff that Sakura chick was wearing, not that she'd ever say it aloud of course. Saber did really prefer her daisy dukes more than she probably would a skirt. Then again, she'd never tried one of those… but it wouldn't look that great with her jacket.

Wait, what was she thinking about again? Oh hey, that's a cute squirrel. A little chubby, though.

"Saber," a wheezing voice drew her attention back to the crawling worm—err, exhausted Master/student, on the floor. "Is it an enemy Servant, or just Tohsaka?"

"Wow," a light voice rebuked from the doorway to the dojo. "If I actually _had_ been an enemy, you'd be an easy mark at this rate. And by the by…"

The atmosphere in the dojo took on a gruesome timbre, an absolutely _demonic_ smile present on the face of its newest inhabitant.

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean, '__just__ Tohsaka', eh!?"_

A polite cough was the only thing that saved Shirou from an absolutely terrible fate; namely, the Gandr pointed directly as his face. All eyes turned to the red-armored silhouette in the doorway, who bore a cynical smirk upon tanned features.

"Rin, try not to destroy our allies." Archer stifled a yawn, and leaned up against the wall of the dojo, doing his best not to look as bored/annoyed as he really felt. Bored by the fact that there hadn't been much in the way of hostilities between his alternate, past self as he and his Rin had, and annoyed that yet _another_ inconsistency had shown up. Instead of the Saber he'd expected to see, it was her bastard, pseudo-incestuous, homunculus son/daughter? Great, his younger self had managed a personality summon, and gotten _another_ person with daddy issues and an impossibly large set of boots to fill.

"Now, if Master, past me, and Mordred could all convene in the living room, we'll wait for our other arrivals and convene the 'war council' we're supposed to have, is that right?" Rin, Shirou, and Saber all nodded their assent, at which Archer left the dojo.

"W-w-w-wait a minute!" Rin squawked. She pointed a finger at Saber, eyes wide and crazy. "He called you Mordred! But, but, but you're a _girl_!"

The vein began pulsing in Saber's forehead, the sound of blood pumping through her veins drowning out Shirou's "You shouldn't have said that, Tohsaka…" from Saber's hearing. But a moment later, Saber simply lowered her fist and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I guess I am…"

With that, she pushed past Rin and left the dojo, leaving a confused Shirou alone with the baffled Tohsaka heiress.

"Is she always like that?" Shirou shook his head, still not sure what just happened.

"No. That was a first…"

* * *

By the time Shirou had recovered enough to get his breath, Sakura had already arrived, finished a pot of tea and hors d'oeuvres, and just let Harry and Assassin in the front door. The two of them deposited their shoes at the entryway, Sakura's eyes lingering on Assassin's strappy heels for a brief moment, and then the trio went to meet Saber, Archer, and their respective masters in the main living room. Archer, to his credit, didn't show overly much surprise when Harry ended up looking nothing like the Boy-Who-Lived that inhabited some of the worlds Alaya had sent him to 'purify'. He did, though, quirk an eyebrow after a brief bout of Structural Analysis revealed him to be a demigod from Stheno, Euryale, and Medusa's line. Had one of those two sisters met Zelretch, gotten knocked up, then given a Gorgon and the Wizard Marshall a grandson that way, with said daughter being named Lily? Hm… nah, there was no way that was possible. Obviously something else had happened, but he didn't have a clue what. Though one thing did bug him: didn't Rider's hair fall to the floor and instantly regrow whenever somebody tried to cut it? Then why was Harry's only at his mid-back at its longest point, and actually shorter in parts?

Wait, no, he knew this one, he'd read the books. Oh yeah, hot pink spikes. That's why.

"We all settled in?" Rin asked, looking around the table and gathering nods as she went. "Alright, let us begin the War Council of the Fifth Heaven's Feel, first meeting of the Emiya Alliance!"

"W-wait!" Shirou protested, cutting Archer off… again. "Why Emiya? Why not Tohsaka, or, or Zelretch?" Harry himself quirked an eyebrow at this over his teacup, and Assassin had to smother a giggle, which Sakura herself failed to. Rin, for her part, just gave him a look that asked, in no uncertain terms, 'just how stupid are you?' as a broad grin lit up her face.

"Why, isn't it obvious, Emiya-kun? Our base of operations is your home, so of course it has to be named after you! Anyways, just give me a moment, I want to savor this. Absolutely no fighting and also peaceful discourse, despite the fact that this one room has four Masters and three Servants—"

"Five," Harry interrupted, casually ignoring Archer's spit-take. The Counter Guardian thumped a fist on his chest, coughing a few times.

"Excuse me, I thought you just said that there were five Servants in here, but that can't be possible, because Sakura's Servant is currently in the hands of the spineless worm, and each of you only has one Servant."

Harry gave Rin a look.

"You forgot to tell him, didn't you?"

"Well… I, um, wanted it to be a, uh, surprise? Ahaha…" Rin's argument held about as much water as a sieve. Harry sighed and sent a mental prod to Liz and Fran to enter material form. To their credit, neither Archer nor Saber immediately drew arms and went on the attack.

"Long story short, things were getting dicey at Hogwarts, and Zelretch," Harry sent a quick glare at Rin when she coughed "Gramps," into the crook of her elbow. "I'll thank you not to interrupt again… anyway, Zelretch wanted me to have somebody at my back. We jury-rigged a set of Command Seals for me, but the summoning somehow pulled _two _Servants out, not just one. Any questions?" Archer looked at the two and the weapons they held on their persons before sighing.

"Elizabeth Bathory and Frankenstein. Just what we needed: more antiheros. Does anybody else need more proof that the Holy Grail has been corrupted?"

Nobody answered. Each of them had already been informed as to the current nature of the Grail. After all, how else was this immense group going to be civil and all sit in the same room, peacefully mind you, when there was the _Holy Grail_ of all things as a prize available?

"That reminds me," Harry spoke up. "Even if we did purify the Greater Grail, it still wouldn't matter. The Holy Grail system is an immense lie in and of itself; it's simply not possible to simply obtain the Grail and make a wish. That's just not how it works."

All eyes turned to Harry, each one with the same silent demand in their gaze. He sighed, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and continued.

"According to Zelretch," Harry glared at Rin, just begging her to say 'Gramps' again; she didn't, "none of the Holy Grail's incarnations has actually had the ability to grant a wish. The Grail's true nature is an immense power amplifier, one which manages to tap both the Second and Third True Magics to temporarily enable feats far beyond any single actor, no matter the feat being performed. Zelretch himself said that if he'd had access to the Holy Grail when going up against the Crimson Moon, he wouldn't have taxed himself anywhere near as much, nor would he have been turned into a Dead Apostle.

"That being said, the issue with the Holy Grail is that that's _all_ it is: an amplifier. It is a source of limitless energy, but it does not have the omniscience, nor the omnipresence, required to well and truly _grant_ a wish. The best the Grail can do is take what you have in mind, and go about it the best way that _you_ know how to do it. That's why when your father," here he looked pointedly at Shirou, "tried to have his wish granted when the Grail emerged ten years ago, he rejected it; the Grail had shown him that the way it would grant world peace was the only way Kiritsugu could imagine it."

"Killing everybody until there was no person left to cause another war," Shirou finished. Saber, Rin, Sakura, and Assassin all grew ashen at the thought. Archer was unaffected.

"Yes. Now, the other issue is that it doesn't have access to the First, the Denial of Nothingness. Most wishes would require that in some shape or form, lest significant destruction result. In its absence, the wish has to be granted in a negative form, save for those simple ones such as granting a Servant life. And while we're on that topic…"

Harry turned to Archer, who paused with his chopsticks most of the way to his mouth.

"You. You're an alternate existence of Shirou, not specifically the future." Sakura, Saber, and Shirou all gasped at this. Archer simply raised an eyebrow, asking what the point was. "So while things were obviously different for you, enough was the same that I can ask you this question. In your Grail War, was there, or was there not, a surviving Servant from the Fourth?"

Archer caught on immediately, and fixed Assassin with a deadly stare. The tension in the room amped up to eleven, and everybody stood on the edge of their seats. Beneath the table, Saber had a grip on her sword, and Shirou held a Traced copy of the Tora-Shinai.

"Assassin… no, Semiramis," he corrected, ignoring her gasp. "No matter what, you _must not_ call out the Hanging Gardens of Babylon until the surviving Servant from the Fourth War has been dealt with. If you begin to call out the Gardens, and your Master is currently unable to utilize a Command Spell to force a halt, I will kill you myself."

"But," Assassin choked out. "But _why_? What is it about my Noble Phantasm that would draw this survivor's ire so?"

Archer sighed.

"The surviving Servant from the Fourth Heaven's Feel could have ended the War on the very first night, if he'd been serious about it. The Fourth War's Archer was Gilgamesh of Uruk." Archer looked up. "If he knew of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, a treasure not in his possession or contained within his Gate of _Babylon_," realization dawned on all faces in the room, "then he would stop at nothing to procure it. Even pull out his ultimate weapon… an Anti-World Noble Phantasm.

"Ea, the Sword of Rapture, the Star of Genesis that Splits Heaven and Earth."

* * *

After a brief planning session, Sakura left to return to the Matou manor with explicit instructions to try and keep track of Shinji and Rider's actions as best she could. The remaining three all set out for the Fuyuki Church, intent on registering with the Moderator of the Holy Grail War, or as Rin loved to call him, the 'false priest'. It was pretty obvious just how little esteem she held for the man. Frankly Archer couldn't blame her; he'd personally seen the man eat mapo tofu like it was _nothing_. And considering that according to Harry, not even _Primate Murder_ could stomach the stuff…

Debates about Kirei's relatively nonexistent taste buds aside, the walk to the church was relatively quiet. All three Servants were astralized, and Assassin's Presence Concealment was active, making it even more difficult to tell that the three were anything more than a group of friends out for a walk. The only indicator otherwise was the sigils on all three teens' left hands: their Command Seals.

Harry had Liz and Fran acting as bodyguard for Sakura at the moment, and also an attempt to act as messenger for his oldest sister. The sooner they could all conspire to remove the Book of False Attendant from Shinji's grasp, the better for everybody involved. It had been decided, however, that Rider would remain as Sakura's Servant. The unique properties of her Element and Origin, Imaginary Numbers, would most certainly have interesting effects on Rider, much like Shirou's combination did for Saber, especially given the both of them were personality summons. Their compatibility was incredible, even trumping the effect that Harry's Origin did on his Servant summons.

All too soon, though, the trio had arrived at the church, bringing any internal dialogues to a halt. For Rin, it was whether she could, through Harry, get Zelretch to assist her, or at least offer a hint or two, in recreating the Jewel Sword Zelretch. For Shirou, it was about the claimed effectiveness of searing a steak on all sides to keep the juices in… and just how wonderfully _incorrect_ that little bit of 'information' actually was. As for Harry? He was just worried about his sister. Yep; deep down, the Gorgons were all big softies.

"I'm waiting out here," Assassin commented. "I don't like the feel of this place."

"Me too," Saber shuddered. "It's creepier than Morgana's extra tit just under her left—"

"AND before anybody finds themselves needing brain bleach," Archer cut in, putting a hand in front of Saber's mouth as she turned red from outrage at the man's audacity, "I'll round it out by saying that I'll be astral next to Rin. I've seen Kotomine too many times to trust him further than I can throw him."

With that settled, Assassin and Saber settled into a vigil. What this actually meant is Assassin inspected/painted/groomed her fingernails, while Saber kicked a hackie sack she'd procured from… somewhere. It's best not to think of those things.

* * *

"Oi! Fake priest!" Rin took the lead within the church, immediately calling out for her current 'guardian'. "Where the hell are you, tofu monger!?"

"Yes?" All three, and one astral Servant, had to repress the urge to jump out of their skins when Kotomine Kirei appeared from behind them. Harry frowned; that was even better than an Assassin's Presence Concealment. The only other thing that had ever been able to sneak up on Harry like that was a ghost or two at Hogwarts…

"Jesus fuck, you… _how_ many times do I have to tell you not to do that!?" Kirei's sardonic smile was all the answer anybody needed. "Anyway, we're here to register ourselves for the Holy Grail War."

"Oho?" Kirei mused. "All three of you? An alliance at this stage, especially one so large as yours, is most unusual. Very well then; in order to formally admit you to the Holy Grail War, even though all seven Servants have been summoned, you must tell me your name, show your Command Seals, and which card you have drawn for our esteemed competition."

"Isn't the first part redundant here?" Rin muttered, eye twitching. "Nothing for it!" She held out her left hand, palm down, for Kirei to see. "Tohsaka Rin, Master of Archer."

"Harry Potter," another hand joined Rin's. "Master of Assassin." Kirei's lip quirked.

"Emiya Shirou," and the quirk twisted around to become a deep frown. "Master of Saber."

If at all possible, Kirei's frown would have deepened even further. Alas, not even Kirei's face, as photogenic as it was, could utilize the Second Magic on its own and bend the laws of time and space to stretch further than it already was.

"I see. Very well; the three of you have been registered as active Masters in the Holy Grail War. Now, before I release the three of you, I must go over the rules and regulations governing the ritual of the Heaven's Feel. In previous renditions, several of these rules have gone… ignored," Kirei nearly failed to suppress the smirk as Rin's hands ground into white-knuckled fists, the memory of how she'd so nearly failed Kotone still fresh in her mind. "To that end, I am ensuring that every participant is _personally_ made aware of what I expect of them. With you three, the only remaining Master to check in will be Caster. But alas," Kirei did not let any of them have the time to file away that little tidbit, "let us begin, for daylight fades quickly, and I do not believe any of you wish to be out in an open, unpopulated area during the nighttime, or am I wrong?

"Now then, let me begin. As you know, there are seven Masters, and seven Servants. No fighting between Servants is to occur until after all seven have been summoned; you will know when all seven have been summoned to this plane by a burning in the Command Seals. You will feel that same burn when a Servant nears, but only after all seven have been summoned already."

"Fighting in daytime, unless specifically in an area of the city that cannot be perceived by those unaware of Magecraft's existence, is absolutely forbidden. All fighting, save for the aforementioned exception, is to take place under cover of night; the slightly… energetic, for lack of a better word, nature of Noble Phantasms makes it easier for the Church's Executors to cover up should they be used at night.

"Should a pair of Master and Servant take actions that endanger the secrecy of Magecraft, or an outside force interfere in Fuyuki City—I do believe you understand what I mean by force, Tohsaka-san; after all, you _are_ the Second Owner of Fuyuki City—then the Holy Grail War is temporarily suspended until such time as the dangerous Master and Servant, or external threat, are eliminated. As a show of support, and to hopefully foster a marginal attempt to cooperate, the Master(s) and Servant(s) responsible for eliminating the threat will be gifted with an extra Command Spell."

Somehow, the trio could _hear_ a parenthetical around the plural modifiers in the priest's voice. Was that the Kotomine family's sorcery trait? Or was it something else? Rin's eyebrow had begun twitching furiously, even more so than before, when the bastard mocked her family's status.

"Furthermore, when only two Servants remain, there will be a one-day ceasefire, during which the two pairs are to meet at the Church to determine a location for their final battle. Attacking or attempting an ambush during this ceasfire will cost a Command Spell for every infraction.

"Lastly, the Einzbern family has once again provided a vessel for the Lesser Grail," here the Priest's odd, self-satisfied smirk turned into a sneer of distaste. "Additionally, she is also acting as the Einzbern Master, which means that she is only allowed to be eliminated by defeating the Servant, being that the Master herself is off limits on pain of losing Command Seals. I believe the Einzbern homunculus summoned a Berserker class Servant several months ago, and has been supporting it without assistance from the Greater Grail."

Rin balked, Shirou paled, and Harry felt his eyes widen. None of them, even under the absolute most favorable conditions, would have been able to manage that!

"I believe that is all. If there is nothing else, I have a sermon to prepare for the upcoming Sabbath. I believe that the three of you can see yourselves out?"

Rin hurried her way out of the church, accidentally slamming it on Shirou's ass as he tried to slip out behind her. But Harry lingered but a moment, looking into the back; he'd been _certain_ that he had felt somebody's gaze upon him. A moment later, he decided to ignore it for now, and left the church, the doors creaking to a close, the sound echoing through the church's acoustics.

"How fascinating."

Ruby eyes peered into a burgundy liquid, aerating within a golden goblet. A sip, followed by satisfaction, was the only sign of the drink's apparent quality. "A demigod, in this age. It would seem, Kirei, that something from this time period may genuinely end up amusing the King after all, hm?"

* * *

"What took so long?" Saber asked as the unlikely trio exited the church. Rin was still grasping at nothing with her fingers and muttering dark, incoherent nothings to herself, while Archer did his best to ignore his Master's decidedly creepy behavior; it was, after all, nowhere near what had happened when she'd encountered Luviagelita Edelfelt. Shirou and Harry went to Saber and Assassin, respectively, and ensured that their Servants were well, despite the wait. But while Shirou made the mistake of wondering exactly _where_ Saber had kept that hackie sack, because it certainly hadn't been in either of her jacket's pockets, Harry inspected Assassin's new nail polish, murmuring appreciatively at the deep, purple shade, matching his hair.

"Kotomine Kirei, among other things," Archer filled in, "has a serious case of logorrhea. When he begins talking, he simply cannot stop. If you're ever bored, just imagine him as the villain in a James Bond movie." Shirou, Rin, and Harry all found themselves snickering, while Assassin and Saber looked at each other, the same silent question playing out on their faces: who the hell was James Bond?

The three of them began heading to the Emiya home once more, passing through the graveyard in case the Master of Caster was just arriving to the church; none of them relished a fight with the Magus who had hijacked a Summon Servant ritual, nor did they relish facing a Caster in an area so surrounded by powerful magics. At least four ley lines converged underneath the Fuyuki Church, making it a dangerous battleground for fighting a magic-user.

But alas, it would seem that their hopes in avoiding a confrontation were all in vain.

"Hello, oniichan."

Shirou stopped in his tracks, instinctively knowing that the snow fairy was addressing _him_ specifically. Rin had begun to grit her teeth, and narrowed her eyes at the young girl, while Harry had begun slipping into a more serpentine stance. In her astral state, Saber summoned her armor, identity protected by the Secret of Pedigree.

"O-oi!" Rin called out. "Shouldn't you be in day-care or something? Kindergarten maybe? This is no place for a girl your age!" she taunted, hoping to put the homunculus off her game.

It didn't work.

"My name is Ilyasviel von Einzbern," the girl introduced herself with a curtsie. "You're Tohsaka Rin, oniichan, and… uwah?" Ilyasviel's gaze fell upon Harry, tilting her head cutely in confusion. Assassin had to resist cooing at the sight, despite knowing that this girl had summoned a _BERSERKER_ several months early!

"Hmph, it doesn't matter who you are! You'll probably all be dead by the end of tonight anyway, if we have anything to say about it. Oh! That reminds me! Is there anything you'd like to tell to our guests, Berserker?"

As it turned out, there was. But the voice didn't come from the front, or behind the two trios, nor even from their flanks. No, it was not so easily seen by human eyes and sensibilities. Instead, the attack came from the one place that a human being is the least likely to ever look.

It came from above.

"**I HAVE THE SHINIEST **_**MEAT BICYCLE!**_**"**

* * *

**Servant: Berserker**

**True Name: Krieg**

**Strength: A++/EX**

**Agility: B/A+**

**Endurance: EX**

**Mana: C++**

**Luck: C+**

**Noble Phantasm: EX**

**SKILLS**

**Mad Enhancement: EX**

**Berserker, even before being summoned as a Servant, already possessed a rudimentary form of Mad Enhancement by virtue of being a Psycho. However, Berserker is unique among all the Psychos of Pandora, having been the result of Hyperion's Eridium experiments, conducted on the orders of Handsome Jack. Berserker receives incredible boosts to his parameters, especially the physical ones, turning him into a raging behemoth on the battlefield. Despite this, his unique brand of insanity—and the small spark of conscience buried deep within his psyche, occasionally able to influence his actions—allows Mad Enhancement to augment him further than normal, without the usual ill side effects.**

**Eye of the Mind (False): B**

**Eye of the Mind is a sixth sense, with the false variety being born from incredible combat experience as opposed to an inborn predilection. It is an intuition about happenings in battle, and what actions may be taken to arise victorious. So long as there exists even a one percent chance of success, a user of Eye of the Mind (False) has a very real chance of realizing that single percent.**

**Battle Continuation: EX**

**Battle Continuation defines the ability to continue fighting, even after having taken grievous wounds. Berserker's Mad Enhancement has also augmented this skill, letting him continue to fight for several minutes after receiving what should be a fatal wound.**

**NOBLE PHANTASMS**

**Bloodsplosion: The Blood-Drenched Catalyst**

**E-A Rank, Anti-Army**

**Whenever Berserker lands a killing blow on a living creature, whether it be destroying a tree, killing an insect, or pulverizing a skull, the excess kinetic energy from his strikes is used as the catalyst for a chemical reaction with the trace amounts of Eridium present in Berserker's system. The unused energy acts as an attractor, accumulating like energies and growing in strength for several seconds before the small, contained reaction destabilizes, releasing a detonation of light and energy. Should Berserker use an attack of a different nature to kill something, then the nature of the explosion will change as well: fire will cause a fireball, electricity causes a localized lightning storm, a blade of wind would create a self-contained hurricane, etcetera.**

**Raving Retribution: Hellborn Carnage**

**B Rank, Anti-Unit**

**Should Berserker be lit aflame, the fire consuming his person would actually **_**enhance**_** his abilities, instead of forcing him into a mindless panic, or causing immense agony. Fire is Berserker's friend and ally, striking out at all which would attempt to harm him. When on fire, should Berserker be struck by an attack, a fireball will erupt from the flames consuming his person and seek the attacker. The fireballs can, however, be tricked by a large enough accumulation of the attacker's prana; should the attacker follow a small projectile with a much larger one, then the fireball released by Raving Retribution will instead track the projectile. Berserker can only release one fireball per second.**

**?**

**EX Rank, Anti-Fortress**

**?**

**D Rank, Anti-Army**

**?**

**E-A++ Rank, Anti-?**

**?**

**EX Rank, N/A**


End file.
